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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27355705">Avalon Alone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSeasonOfWinter/pseuds/TheSeasonOfWinter'>TheSeasonOfWinter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Future, Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Canon, Road Trips, a scattering of OCs, graphic description of violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:26:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27355705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSeasonOfWinter/pseuds/TheSeasonOfWinter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur wakes up in Avalon, Freya tells him it is time to complete his destiny. This time, he's the one who needs to save Merlin.</p><p> </p><p>But first he has to find the idiot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin &amp; Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>122</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>It’s the rocking that wakes Arthur up. The gentle swaying back and forth, the sound of water gurgling quietly all around him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There are fingers in his hair, brushing them back gently, swiping across his forehead in a motherly caress. At least he assumes so. Arthur has never really had a mother to show him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His body felt weightless, but his eyelids were the heaviest thing he’d ever tried to lift. A groan escaped him as he attempted to, and that soft hand laid on his eyes soothingly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not yet,” Arthur heard a soft voice whisper, as gentle as the waves around him. “Not time yet, Your Majesty. Just wait.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur has never been one for patience - or for doing as he told - but nonetheless, he relaxed and returned to the darkness. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>When Arthur woke up again, opening his eyes was the first thing he did. <em> Wow, </em> he thought, <em> a marvel of physical strength I am.  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sitting up, Arthur rubbed his eyes and stretched. He felt groggy, like he had slept way too long. His muscles were stiff and there was sleeping sand built up in the corners of his eyes. He didn’t need anyone to tell him he overslept and was probably late for who knows how many tasks. Merlin was supposed to wake him but who know what -</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Merlin </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur straightened up and took stock of where he was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And that was definitely not Camelot. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was in a boat, one decorated with various plants and flowers, laid out underneath him like he was being sent off for his funeral. A small part of his mind was affronted since he was supposed to be buried under the castle in the tomb all the previous kings of Camelot resided, not left alone in a tiny dinghy covered in vegetation. Wait, was he supposed to be dying? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Standing up, Arthur’s legs almost gave out, and if he had actually been at sea, he wouldn’t have been able to stand. Luckily his boat was tied to a tree on the island he was docked. Completely lacking grace, Arthur half scooted half fell out of the boat and stumbled onto shore. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was unrecognizable and yet familiar, shrouded in mist and humming with a sense of peace Arthur found both comforting and unnerving. After all, he had never known peace in his very short reign. He didn’t see any man made paths nor did he hear any animals in the forest beyond, only the sound of the waves reaching out and then curling back in on themselves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Almost in a daze, Arthur went forward, his feet leading him farther into the island, through the forest. He came across no other signs of life besides the apple trees. His armor was heavy, and it was humid. He didn’t have Excalibur, and Arthur wondered if he really needed it. Something about this place made him feel safe, and it was almost enough to assuage all of his worries.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he walked, he came across a small stream. It was a quiet babble in the apple forest and running his fingers through it reminded him of Guinever’s hair. He followed it down into a valley. The mist was so thick, Arthur couldn’t tell if it was night or day, but he found the pool just the same. It was an ethereal thing, a still mirror of light that flooded the valley with the softest glow. Small stars seemed to float in the air, lazily drifting over the water, not causing even the slightest ripple. The girl standing in the middle of if was just as beautiful.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dark eyes and dark hair and dressed in a gown that looked similar to something Morgana used to wear, she gazed at Arthur with a small smile. The king paused, unsure if he should disturb her but unable to turn away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The girl smiled and held out her hand. “Your Majesty, please step forward.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur took one step into the water before pausing, his senses returning slowly. “I don’t wish to bother you, my lady.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is no bother. I have been waiting for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her eyes were so soft, like his bed back home, and her smile was so kind. Arthur took another step but did not continue. He shook his head and returned to dry land; her hand drifted back into the water. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, “but I’m afraid I cannot join you. I have someone who means the world to me, and I cannot betray her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The girl’s eyebrows furrowed as he spoke, but then she laughed. It was the sound of leaves falling and of baby birds chirping, and Arthur didn’t care that it was at his expense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“My lord, I confuse you, and I apologize.” She held out her hand again. “That is not what I ask of you, I just need to show you something.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur would be hesitant to say that he was at the beck and call of any woman, but that would be a lie. He had done whatever Morgana had asked of him when they lived together, and he would bend backwards to please Guienevere. If this sweet stranger offered no ill will, Arthur would happily indulge her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He walked into the pool, the water rising up to his waist and held her hand when within reach. She smiled. “My name is Freya.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello,” Arthur answered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She laughed again. “I am a friend of Merlin’s, and I’ve been looking after you all this time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something about that stirred in him. “All this time?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, look.” Freya ran her finger over the water and the image rippled. He saw himself, hunched over and pale, and Merlin dragging him over to a lake. He couldn’t hear anything, but Merlin looked distraught and eventually they both collapsed, his servant holding on top him while Arthur looked like he was trying to remain conscious. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Thank you.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Memories Arthur hadn’t even known he’d forgotten slammed into his head, and he jerked back, away from Freya and fell under water. He thrashed and came up sputtering, unable to breathe and unable to understand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya was reaching for him, holding his arms, and that was the main reason Arthur stopped fighting. He realized he couldn’t break out of her hold.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Calm, my lord, just breathe, it’s okay.” She held his hand and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. “You’re safe now, I promise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I -” Arthur choked, “I died - I was <em> dead. </em>How did -?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” Freya shook her head, smiling again as if correcting a child. “You never died. The Once and Future King didn’t die.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The -” Arthur sputtered, “the <em> what?” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You were destined to unite Albion, and with Merlin’s help you did,” Freya explained, “and you would be called upon when the time was right. When Albion’s need was greatest. My king,” Freya made sure Arthur was looking her in the eye when she next spoke, “that time is now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?” Arthur said, voice high. “I don’t understand what -”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I will show,” Freya interrupted, “and I will explain. You have been resting for a long time, so please calm. There is still work to be done before you return. But first you must <em> breathe.” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Prompted by her voice, Arthur obeyed. The peace that he experienced on his way to the pool was still close at hand as if waiting for him to welcome it, and the more he breathed the faster it came. His overpaced heart slowed down, and Arthur was able to think beyond the blind panic and denial.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s it, my lord,” Freya said. “That’s it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was holding both of his hands, and the water was slightly cool where they stood. Arthur hadn’t noticed when he waded in, but the balls of light were orbiting around the pair as if watching.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They are.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur started. “Um, what?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They are watching,” Freya gestured to them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh.” Arthur said. “Oh, <em> they’re </em> watching. Um, what - what exactly are they?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya let loose her lovely laugh. “They’re magic, guardians and spirits of Avalon.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Which is where we are?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes. Where we have been for many years.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur stuttered. “<em> Years?” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You have slept for a long time, my king, in order to wait and heal.” Freya said. “I have been watching over you and guarding you for many centuries.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Why?” </em>Arthur couldn’t help but ask.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why what?” Freya cocked her head to the side. “Why are you the one chosen or why is it time for your return?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why did you stay here? Why guard me at all when I’m a Pendragon - the enemy of all magic?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This question seemed to throw her, but her answer was simple. “Because of Merlin.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur was speechless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You protected him, and you were his friend. Merlin protected you, trusted you, and I trust him. He saved me, and so I’ll do anything for him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If anyone had said those words before the Battle of Camlann, Arthur would have laughed, but the jounrey back to Camelot with Merlin after he was hurt changed that. Arthur knew now, and it seemed that his friend was still finding ways to protect him even now. “Did he know I would end up here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya’s eyes held a deep sadness at the question. “No, Sire, he didn’t. None of them did.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur sagged. “What happened?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They served, they lived, they had children, and they died.” Freya told him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Guinevere?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She never remarried. She named your cousin from Cornwall as heir.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur didn’t find comfort in that. He almost wished she had just moved on and found someone else. Not forget him, never that, but just not give up on love. “What happened to Camelot?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It changed. For worse, for better, and for worse again, but it still exists. Not in the way you knew it, but it still exists.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You -” Arthur choked, but tried again. “You are here because Merlin asked you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m here because Merlin judged you worth it, and it is destiny for you to be here. The Once and Future King must return, and I was honored to assist.” Frey smiled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did I . . .” Arthur swallowed. “Did I do okay? Did everything end alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya’s face took on a complicated expression as if she was making her own assessment right now. “You are not what I imagined you to be, Arthur Pendragon.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Coming from a magical creature, Arthur hoped that was a compliment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You trust what I say is true and do not despair on the fact that destiny has a hold on you. You ask me about your friends, your wife, your people.” Freya nodded. “I knew nothing about you that I didn’t know when I was living as a Druid girl during your father’s reign. I have stayed here with you only on Merlin’s actions. Seeing him protect you, trust you, respect you, I endeavored to trust him and when the time came that the magic of Albion sought to hold you, I came on his word. And actually speaking to you now, I’d say yes, Sire. You did okay. Better than okay.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur sagged as if he was a puppet whose strings had been cut. A deep relief curled in his chest. Her words were as good as gold. “Magic returned to camelot.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya smiled. “That pleases you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was worried I’d never have the chance to make things right when I died. How did it happen?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your policies, your teaching, how you ran your kingdom, and your very capable wife all played a hand.” Freya smiled. “You ushered in the peace I had thought never to come to pass. You and Merlin saved us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We fulfilled our destiny?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not all of it, you still must return, but first an explanation.” Freya once again directed Arthur’s gaze to the pool. “You are still too weak to return to the mortal world just yet, and so I will show you. I will show you the before, the during, and some of the after, and the pool will strengthen you. Watch, my king, learn.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya melted into the water, and the reflection showed a young boy making his way down a familiar road. He passed a rider and reached the crest of a hill overlooking Arthur’s home. Arthur smiled as he watched Merlin enter Camelot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He cringed at his younger self and was astounded by his first rescue and the dragon’s issued destiny. Arthur hadn’t known how long in the making this destiny was or how many times Merlin had saved him. He watched as Nimueh attacked, as Merlin helped guide him to an antidote, and as they met Lancelot. He watched as Sofia tried to kill him - <em> that </em>was some news - and watched as he killed a unicorn and then himself, and he watched as he saved Mordred. He watched as Merlin offered his live in exchange for his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was so much to see, so much to learn, and Arthur barely noticed the sun rising and falling as strength returned to his body and enlightenment reached his heart. Knowing and understanding are two different things, and Arthur was grateful to have the chance to see his friend once more, but that didn’t stop him hurting. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everyone Arthur had known, hated, and loved was dead. He was more alone now than he’d ever been, and eventually he would have to leave Freya, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He watched Morgana struggle with her magic, and he watched as it slowly corrupted her. He watched her spiral as fear tore her apart, and his heart broke all over again when he watched her try and kill him even before he’d known he’d lost her. He watched Merlin meet Freya and watched himself attack her. He watched as she died, and Merlin set a loved one off in a boat on the lake, for the first time but not the last.</p>
<p>He watched Guinevere lose her brother and his trust because of an enchantment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He watched everything, every fight, every secret, every moment that went oh, so wrong. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He watched Merlin kill his father.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He watched as Merlin lost his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He watched Merlin struggle, survive, and protect. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And once he had watched it all, he let his knees give out and the water cover his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya was there although Arthur wished she wasn’t. He didn’t deserve her help, but nonetheless she brought him up out of the water just as she had done with Excalibur.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s okay to cry now,” she told him. “It hurts. But the story’s not over.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur couldn’t take watching anymore right then, and he told her so. She nodded and with a flash she brought his boat - the boat Merlin made him - to the pool, and she led him over to it, setting him down like a child. And the king slept again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he woke up, Arthur felt better. He felt like he was coming back to life bit by bit, and when he climbed out of his boat for the second time, Freya was waiting for him with fresh apples from the forest. He sat with her at a stone table by the pool in the valley of mist. Arthur got to talk to her officially, having an actual conversation. Freya was a lot like Merlin and it both helped and hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What I want to show you today is the after,” she said. “It may hurt more than anything else, but knowing will provide comfort.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Lady of the Lake led him back into the water, and the balls of magic spun around joyfully. They always seemed to do that when Arthur looked at them, and Freya told him it’s because magic likes him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But hundreds of people have tried to kill me with magic,” Arthur argued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya nodded. “Yes, but that was people <em> using </em> magic, not Magic itself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t think I understand.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Take Merlin for example,” Freya usually said this. “Merlin does not <em> use </em> magic, he <em> is </em>magic. He is part of the old magic that Albion set aside to protect you. Magic itself will always want to protect you because of who you are, Arthur. And these little ones are the same way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur was silent for a second. “But <em> creatures </em>of magic didn’t care.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It would be unnatural for them to do so, but not impossible to want to hurt the Once and Future King. Evil has a way of making the unnatural natural.” Freya ran her finger down the surface of the water again, and Arthur was distracted by watching Guinevere’s coronation. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was a good queen, wise and noble, just like he knew she would be. Camelot loved her - everyone, actually, loved her which somewhat grew to be a problem. She could never escape the rumors of her and Lancelot, though, and sometimes she would lie in her bed and cry over him. What they did, what happened after, and that minor ‘what if’ she couldn’t help but entertain when she thought about him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She worked to legalize magic for Merlin’s sake, but she never saw him again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The knights went on with their lives save for two. Gwaine died at Morgana’s hand and Lancelot died giving his life for Camelot which was a great comfort to Arthur. His friend’s sacrifice wasn’t marred by what happened anymore, and that sense of peace was reliving. The others went on to continue to defend the queen. Elyan was her chief guard, naturally, with Leon a close second. Many more came and went, and they all went on noble adventures. Percival even found the Holy Grail!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gaius died of old age in his sleep, wondering for the rest of his life what happened to his ward even after Alice returned to him, and Arthur wondered the same thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Saxons came and conquered followed by Normans and Vikings, and it’s a wonder any semblance of Camelot even survived. Arthur actually watched as new kings and queens ruled, as fashions changed, and ideals changed. He watched <em> religion </em> change and magic fade away in favor of technology. He watched as the name of his home changed and how its colonies changed. He watched so much, he half wondered if the pool itself counted as a <em> ‘television’. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>But all the while, he didn’t see anything about Merlin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What happened to him?” Arthur asked, Freya as he helped her make dinner. “How did he die? Did he ever marry? Does he have children? Did he ever go back -”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Home?” she finished with a cheeky smile. “He traveled around, but he always came back home.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur smiled sadly. “He never came back to our Camelot, did he?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, he didn’t. But even though the Camelot you both knew was gone, he came back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then what happened to him, Freya?” Arthur asked. “Why haven’t you shown me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is part of your destiny.” Freya said. “Merlin protected you from harm, and now it is your turn. A coin has two sides but you can flip it. If one side is in danger, the other is a guardian and vice versa.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur stopped what he was doing and just sat down. “How can I protect him when he’s dead?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Frey looked at him with those dark eyes, and Arthur almost couldn’t bring himself to hope. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s not dead?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“As long as there is Emrys, there is the Once and Future King, and as long as there is Arthur, there is Merlin.” Freya kneeled down one front of the king. “You are strong enough to leave now, and although the road will be difficult and confusing, you must find Merlin. You must save him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur straightened in alarm. “He’s in trouble?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, but it’s nothing your presence can’t fix.” Freya cupped Arthur’s cheek. “Will you go?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I will, my lady.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya smiled, and the love she holds in her heart for a certain warlock bubbled up in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. “Then take the boat and return. Return back to the world, King Arthur, and save it once again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya has packed some food for him and saw him off on the shores of Avalon. A mystical part of Arthur didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to lose that magical pool, the mist, and the apple trees, but he didn’t want to lose Merlin more. The balls of magic floated listlessly after them, seeming to despair in the evening air at Arthur leaving. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wished he could say he’d be back but didn’t know if that was true. Instead he held one in the palm of his hand and said “I’m going to find Merlin” which seemed good enough for them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know if I can ever repay you,” Arthur told the Lady of the Lake. “I don’t know if any actions or words would be enough to show how grateful I am for your care when my family has done nothing but harm to yours.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya was crying proud tears. “Arthur Pendragon, your existence is thanks enough. Without you, my world - my people - would be less than a question mark in history. Now, I have something for you, and while I’ve given it to you before, this will be the first time it’s to you I’ve handed it over.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Freya made a graceful gesture with her hand and Excalibur shimmered into existence. The Lady held it and presented it to her king who took it in awe. Arthur held the sword, feeling a part of himself sing with its presence. He admired it as he said “the modern world doesn’t really call for a sword.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And yet,” Freya smirked, “what king is without one?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arthur reached out and they hugged tightly in a way only true friends could hug. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you,” Arthur whispered into her hair. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Find him,” Freya said back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And King Arthur climbed in the boat that brought him to Avalon and sailed away into the mist. He had watched so many things already, but watching Avalon fade away was one of the more painful views. Still, Arthur steeled himself and faced forward. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The king was returning. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. "My name is King Arthur Pendragon, officer."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He just got here, and he's already talking to the cops.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The boat actually didn’t go very far, looking back Arthur could probably have swam the distance, but nonetheless, he pulled the boat onto the muddy ground and looked around him. He was on the side of a road in a foggy, natural place, and it is only then that Arthur realizes how the magical land of Avalon was so different from the mortal world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The air around him felt dead somehow, the grass less green, and Arthur pseudo hoped he’d forget the difference soon before he made himself sadder than he already was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah ‘find Merlin’, I’ll just do that once I figure out where the hell </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>am,” Arthur muttered. Being lost didn’t suit Arthur, and he was just about to pick a direction and start walking when a car pulled up next to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t jump - he just flinched a little, that’s all, when the window rolled down and a bespectacled woman poked her head out. “The fair ended two days ago.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur floundered. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Renaissance fair?” She shook her head in sympathy. “It ended two days ago, dude, you missed it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><em><span>What the hell is a Renaissance? </span></em><span>Arthur cleared his throat.</span> <span>“Um, that is unfortunate, but could you please provide me some assistance at this moment, my lady?”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman appraised him and gave a humorous smile. “Okay, you’re still gonna pretend. Sure, whatever suits your fancy, I suppose. What do you need?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell me where I am?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mirth left her face as she took on a concerned expression. “Wait - are you lost?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, my lady.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit, did you hit your head or something? No one really goes down towards that lake since it can get kinda dangerous. You forgot where you were?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I find myself a tad lost,” Arthur almost snapped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, sir knight, you’re in Glastonbury.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur blinked slowly, feeling like an idiot for thinking if he knew the name of the town he’d understand where he was. Everything was different and he was lost in the very land he ruled. Or used to rule. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Somerset? England? Am I helping you at all?” This poor woman looked so worried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur snapped. “England! Yes, I know that one, but - ah, it may be better if I could see a map?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman stared at him. “A … map? Like a paper one?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How the hell was he supposed to find Merlin when he couldn’t even make it through a conversation? Those viewings of the future did not mention any of this.  “There are … other types of maps?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman stared a second longer before letting out a breath. “Okay, Lancelot, get in the car. I’ll take you to the police station, they should be able to help you out there. And they’ll probably have paper maps for you, too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur was too busy reeling to follow what she was saying. “Wait, you know of Lancelot?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m actually taking an Arthurian Literature class this semester, so I can probably tell you all about knights of the Round Table. Now get in the car, and please don’t be a psychopath.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Arthurian -?!” Arthur ran a hand through his hair. “A what literature class?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get in the car or I’ll leave you here. I’ll tell you all about it on the way to the police section.” The woman tilted her head towards the passenger seat, and Arthur was too bewildered to refuse her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took a second to open the door and put his seatbelt on over his sword, but Arthur managed. The woman gave a quick nod and pulled the car forward, startling the king to death as he clung to a coincident little handle on the vehicle’s roof. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Elaine, by the way, and let me guess yours.” Elaine tapped a finger to her chin, and Arthur panicked silently over her only having one hand on the wheel. “You didn’t seem to care for Lancelot which is fair because I don’t really dig him either. People are like ‘oh, he’s so noble and chivalrous’ and whatever, but let me tell you, there’s nothing noble about fucking your king’s wife.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur squeaked, but Elaine was already moving on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But that may just be me defending my namesake, the Lady of Shalott - not that I’m actually named after her or anything, that would be kinda cruel of my parents - I’m just saying Lancelot certainly has a fucking way with women.” She laughed and shook her head. “Anyway, how about a Kay! You could be a Kay, or maybe a Gwaine?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur probably wasn’t looking very kingly with his mouth hung open like a fish, but Freya apparently didn’t think it was important to mention that he and his friends were famous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no wait!” Elaine giggled. “You have a big ole fancy sword - are you an Arthur?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I - yes?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine gave him the side eye but then shrugged. “Ballsy, but I can see it. Definitely the best option, other than the whole betrayal and dying bit, but enough jokes. What’s your real name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No - no jokes, my father actually named me Arthur. It's what I’ve been called all my life,” Arthur said, stumbling through the sentence. “My name’s Arthur.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine once again gave him the side eye this time with a little more suspicion in her face. “I’m going to believe that and pray that you don’t have any dangerous delusions about being a medieval king that would end with me being a victim on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Criminal Minds</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But now I’ve really got to ask, did your parents name you after the king or the aardvark?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur couldn’t tell if his first car ride was going well or not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time they pulled into the police station, Arthur was vehemently shaking his head. “I’ve seen plenty of strange creatures in my life, but I don’t believe you one bit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aardvarks are real animals! Why are you fighting me so hard on this? Come on, it’s like an anteater -“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not even a good lie! An anteater? Gee, Elaine, why don’t you spell that one out for me. Tell me, what does your so called </span>
  <em>
    <span>anteater </span>
  </em>
  <span>do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It - it eats ants …”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur made eye contact and threw his hands in the air as if proving a point. Elaine just shook her head at him. “I’m not having this conversation. I’m not defending the existence of aardvarks to a guy in cheap chainmail who thinks he’s a knight, now get out. We gotta talk to the cops.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled and slid out the door while Arthur sat there, indignant. “It’s not cheap!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get out of the car, Your Majesty!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grumbling, Arthur followed suit, trying - and failing - to hide how much he was enjoying Elaine’s company. While Freya was lovely and a wonderful host, Arthur technically hadn’t spoken to anyone else for over a thousand years. “It’s nice chainmail - it was made specifically for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it heavy?” Elaine asked, holding the door open for him - which seemed backwards to Arthur, but he stayed silent on the matter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It can be, I don’t really notice anymore unless I’m tired or wounded.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine made a face. “Wounded?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur smiled. “Since it’s not cheap chainmail, that normally doesn’t happen.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>And I usually have someone watching my back, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh . . .”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the atmosphere of the police station, but Elaine’s demeanor changed to the merciless teasing Arthur endured the whole way here to a more shy one. She didn’t say much as they both just stood awkwardly in the lobby, the woman at the front desk looking at them expectedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Arthur asked, put off by the change.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” Elaine said, looking sheepish. “I’m just not from here - like, from this country, and I don’t know how different this will be from back home. Just nervous about messing up, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where are you from if I may ask?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Texas. I’m here on a short vacation - juggling sightseeing with some online classes, but over all, enjoying myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur can’t seem to remember he had no idea what anything was called now and just continued to stare at her blankly, wondering if he should try and pull off knowing where the Texas was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine gave him a look. “America, dude.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Arthur said. “Sorry, I guess I only know the kingdom -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ -America is not a kingdom -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Right, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s not, it’s a . . .?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine was looking at him as if a mushroom on the side of the road decided to start talking. “It’s a mess, a bit like you, now come one. Way to remind me that you need, like, actual help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face was red, but one weapon Arthur was never without was snark. “As opposed to figurative help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see, he’s going to growl at me over terminology and aardvarks but he calls the US a </span>
  <em>
    <span>kingdom.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>US? Is that part of America or Texas? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur, realizing there was no way to win this one, actually just shut up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine talked to the woman at the front desk, and Arthur was minorly distracted by the room. He knew things looked different, he just didn’t expect it to be so obvious. The walls, the title, the ceiling, even the faint breeze he could feel from </span>
  <em>
    <span>inside </span>
  </em>
  <span>was just serving as a reminder how out of depth he was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Name, sir?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur looked over to see both women looking at him expectedly, and he briefly wondered if coming here was really helpful to his quest or not. “Arthur Pendragon the first of his name, King of - uh. Arthur Pendragon, just that”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine winced, and the other women blinked slowly and exhaled. “Sir, please, this is a serious question so please answer truthfully.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s my name, my lady. I’ve known no other,” Arthur defended. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman looked at Elaine who just shrugged. “He told me the same thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman sighed and reached for the phone. “Okay, let’s see if we can straighten this out. Inspector Geoffrey? I got someone here for you to talk to. Okay, sending them in - yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>them.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She hung up and gestured toward a door. “Walk in there, and answer the inspector’s questions, and we’ll fix this in no time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Elaine said, tugging on Arthur’s arm. She didn’t look like she was having as much fun as she did in the car. “Come on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were introduced to a Mr. Christophe Geoffrey who led them to his desk. He had papers set up where he started taking down all the information Arthur could offer without sounding totally unhinged. He felt like he was doing a good job.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, sir, let me get this straight,” Geoffrey said, looking put upon. “Your name is Arthur Pendragon, you have no ID other than Excalibur on your hip. You’re from Camelot, but you have no idea where that is. You have just come back from Avalon, and that’s why you were wandering around on the street when Elaine Patrick picked you up. Did I get all that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Arthur told him, wondering why his answer caused Elaine to face palm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey looked at him blankly for a second. When Arthur just continued to stare at him, the inspector looked at Elaine before leaning back in his chair and tossing his pen on his desk. “Wow, okay. Um, is there anyone we can call for you? Any family?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The question was like a punch to the gut. Who on earth could they call for him? His parents are dead, his wife is dead, he has no children, and all his knights are dead. The list was long, and Arthur just sat there for a second, once again realizing how impossible his task seemed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sir?” the inspector prompted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Arthur wasn’t used to being so unsure. Usually he would make a decision and run with it, but he didn’t even know where to start running. “Could you call Merlin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God,” Elaine said, her hands covering his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey looked at him as if he was deciding whether or not to pity or strangle Arthur before bluntly stating “I don’t think we’ll find Merlin in our databases.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur was grasping at straws. “Then how about Emrys?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey seemed to settle on pity at seeing how desperate Arthur was getting. “Okay, I can try. Got a last name?” Arthur just looked at him. “ No? Okay. Wait here for a second please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got up and left, and Elaine took that as the perfect opportunity to sock Arthur in the shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen,” she whispered, “if this is a joke or something, you seriously need to stop it. And if this isn’t a joke and they can’t find any family to come pick you up, they’re going to have to do something. They can’t exactly set loose a guy who thinks he’s King Arthur reborn.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not reborn,” Arthur snapped. “I’ve always been me, and I need to find Merlin. That’s the whole reason I’m here. I thought you were helping me.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I thought you were a cosplayer who fell and got a concussion.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Elaine searched his face. “Now you’re telling the cops your last name is Pendragon? Come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I believe you on Arthur, but really? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pendragon?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I can avoid it, I try not to lie,” Arthur snapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ealine looked more panicked as the conversation went on. She shook her head slowly. “You’re crazy. Listen, Arthur, I like you. I don’t think you’re a bad person, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>stop playing around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur opened his mouth to defend himself, but Geoffrey returned to his desk with some papers in his hands. “You’re lucky this is an uncommon name, there’s only twelve in town. Can you show me your Emrys?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur took the papers and flipped through them, looking at the pictures and hoping to see a familiar face. He was disappointed. He slowly lowered the papers back to the desk and just gave one shake of his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey didn’t look surprised but was at least sympathetic. “Not there, huh. Okay, Arthur, you’re going to have to stay here for a bit. A doctor will be on their way soon, and they we can take you to -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not staying,” Arthur told him. Elaine sucked in a breath sharply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey frowned. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have to go find him, and if you don't know where he is then I won’t be staying here,” Arthur told him plainly, standing up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This set the inspector on edge, who raised his voice slightly - not to yell, but to get the attention of the other officers in the room. “I’m afraid you can’t go just yet, please sit down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the king in him, or maybe it was the resurfacing of a prattish prince, but Arthur was starting to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>tired of being told what to do. He rested his hand on Excalibur’s handle. “I think I’ll be going now, actually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Arthur, please,” Elaine started, standing up and backing away. Arthur didn’t mean to frighten her, but being locked up really didn’t suit any king, much less a Pendragon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, kid, I’m going to say this plainly.” Arthur returned his attention to the inspector. “You’re not King Arthur. He isn’t real. There is no Camelot, there has never been a Lancelot or a Merlin, and that plastic toy is not Excalibur You’re confused, and we just want to help you. Please, take a seat, and we can talk this out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The speech along with the name ‘Arthur’ seemed to draw everyone’s attention, but the Once and Future King was still reeling on one word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Plastic?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur growled indignantly. “A </span>
  <em>
    <span>plastic </span>
  </em>
  <span>sword? Does this look </span>
  <em>
    <span>plastic </span>
  </em>
  <span>to you?”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Drawing Excalibur from its sheath so far had been the only familiar thing that’s happened in this police station. The sword was sharp, singing and bright under the fluorescent lights. The air seemed to still in its presence, and the edge reflected its deadly potential. The effect in the room was instantaneous with multiple people shouting and crowding closer and then backing up as Arthur held the sword out. Maybe drawing it was a bit much, but Arthus could have always described himself as being ‘a bit much’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m leaving,” he repeated, but Geoffrey shook his head, looking wary.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can’t let you do that. You’re suffering under a delusion, now please, put the sword down and come quietly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one moved to let him pass - maybe they thought they could all take someone with just a sword and not a gun. Arthur was a bit at a loss. He didn’t plan on hurting anyone, didn’t want to if he could avoid it all together, but he was damn sure he couldn’t find Merlin from jail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt a breath on his neck. A voice that reminded him of rainwater tumbling over pebbles echoed in his ear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The floor,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Freya whispered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Prove to them who you are.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And just as her presence drifted away, Arthur switched his grip on the sword, and with all of his strength and faith, he fell to his knees as he stabbed Excalibur into the floor of the police station, right in front of Inspector Geoffrey’s desk.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Deniable Proof</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>This is what I get for trying to be a good person, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Elaine thought from where she sat at a </span>
  <em>
    <span>different </span>
  </em>
  <span>inspector’s desk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you had never seen him before today?” the inspector asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, ma’am,” Elaine explained. “I just thought he needed some help. Said he was lost.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman snorted, eyeing the sword that stood proudly in the room. “Yeah, he needed some help, alright. If the sword’s that sharp, he couldn’t easily kill someone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think Arthur would have </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed </span>
  </em>
  <span>anyone,” Elaine quietly protested. “Well, okay, maybe if he was threatened. But he left it here didn’t he?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Arthur had full on stabbed the floor, he just stepped back and allowed the cops to put him in handcuffs. He was in holding right now, and Elaine was giving a statement before they’d let her return to her hotel room where her sister was probably waiting. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boy, do I have a story for her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, can you leave your number and email just in case we need to contact you again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am.” Was it rude to say ma’am, here? Sometimes people think so, but Elaine had no idea. She’d been calling this inspector that this whole time. Her stomach clenched with her anxiety. Just sign the papers and leave, go back and forget all about this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or better yet, mention it to your Arthurian Lit. professor and maybe get some extra credit. Elaine glanced back to the sword in the floor. The story may just be a little too unbelievable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, you’re good to go. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye, thank you -” Elaine was cut off by a frustrated yell. She turned to see a man sitting on the floor right in front of the sword as if he’d just fallen over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t pull this damn thing out!” he groaned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another inspector reached out and grabbed the handle, jerking it once before bending his knees and bracing himself. Elaine could only tell by the sweat beading on his forehead and his flushed face that he was putting forth any actual effort. The sword wasn’t even budging.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s in poor taste,” Inspector Geoffrey chided, shooing the other man aside, so he could try. His face betrayed his surprise when the sword didn’t move right away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s stuck or something,” the first man muttered. “Bastard might’ve shoved it into a pipe or something. Let’s all try”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine watched in disbelief as three grown men struggled to pull a sword out of the floor. She could briefly hear Arthur’s voice call it </span>
  <em>
    <span>Excalibur</span>
  </em>
  <span> in her mind, before she pushed the thought away. There was no fucking way. Besides, Excalibur wasn’t even the Sword in the Stone. Excalibur was forged on Avalon and given to Arthur by the Lady of the Lake -</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All three men fell back in a heap, red in the face and panting. The sword hadn’t moved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone in the room was watching, and one man finally gave a laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No future kings among us, huh?” he joked, walking over. “Let me have a try.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so it went, everyone cycled through, trying to pull the sword, and no succeeded. They even got people waiting in the lobby to try. Three people would work together, four, five, and still the sword didn’t move. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When it was Elaine’s turn, she stepped forward and used both hands. As soon as she touched the sword, she had the feeling she was never supposed to again. Like it wasn’t hers, like it was bold of her to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>dream </span>
  </em>
  <span>about holding it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like the sword rejected her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stepped back and continued to watch people try. They were joking, laughing at their attempts, but there was one other person in the room that looked as perturbed at her. Inspector Geoffrey stood off to one side, looking pensive as he watched the procession. Elaine joined him, standing there, saying nothing. There was nothing left for her to do here, but the thought of leaving right now felt like a bad move. Like going to use the bathroom during the climax of a movie. She waited to watch this play out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No one can pull it,” she said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey nodded. “Appears so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine glanced at him. “Seems kind of ironic, doesn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey raised an eyebrow and looked at her. “Ironic?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A man claiming to be King Arthur comes in here and leaves a sword in the ground that no one can pull up?” Elaine said. “Seems to be straight out of the stories.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The inspector hummed in acknowledgement. “With some creative liberties taken with the setting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Elaine’s curiosity got the better of her. “I’d like to talk to him, if that’s alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey looked at her in surprise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With you there of course,” she rushed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at her for a second before nodding slowly. They left the crowd and went to where the cells were a little deeper into the building. It was easy to find Arthur since he was the only one wearing armor and a bright red cape, but Elaine didn’t expect to see him sitting on the bed so serenely. Like he was just waiting for them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine confirmed this when he didn’t look at all surprised at seeing them. “Hello again, Elaine, Inspector. Do you need some help out there? Awfully loud.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice was weird, a mixture of formal and snark, and to think Elaine thought he was just cosplaying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The sword’s stuck,” she said without preamble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur nodded. “For some, yes, it won’t move.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But it’ll move for you?” Geoffrey asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It has before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And if I let you try,” Elaine looked over at the Inspector as he spoke, surprised. “If I let you try to pull the sword and you fail just as the rest of us did, will you admit you’re not King Arthur?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur gave a little laugh as if enjoying some inside joke before nodding. “Yeah, if I can’t pull that sword out of the ground, then I’m not who I say I am. Now can you let me out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are some people, Elaine has found, who are easy to imagine as royalty. Arthur is one of them with his sometimes bratty tone but just as sudden regal attitude. Both come very naturally to him, and Elaine would have told him so to his face if a cop wasn’t here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey left the handcuffs on as he took Arthur back into the room he was just hauled out of not twenty minutes before. At his presence, the noise in the room died down a bit, everyone looking on in confusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s let the so-called king try,” Geoffrey said, ushering the people near the sword away before setting Arthur there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some of the others laughed, but that didn’t stop every eye in the building from resting on the man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur looked at all of them, amused by the attention it seemed. “What was the largest group that’s tried.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Five men,” Geoffrey answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur made an overly dramatic worried face, wincing playfully. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>five? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Five grown men have tried? Well, see now I don’t know. I mean, how could just little old me have the strength to pull a sword that </span>
  <em>
    <span>five grown men </span>
  </em>
  <span>failed to move - oh, wait.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine’s jaw dropped as Arthur reached out with his bound hand and just gave a gentle tug, and the sword sprang free from the earth as if it couldn’t wait to be in Arthur’s hands again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heedless of the looks of surprise around the room, Arthur dramatically inspected the sword, humming in a disbelieving way. “I don’t know, maybe you all just loosened it for me. Here.” Arthur once again stabbed the sword back into the hole. “Now you can try again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one moved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur rolled his eyes. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>come </span>
  </em>
  <span>on, I just showed you how easy it is!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey, not making any expression at all, wrapped his hand around the pommel and gave it the same small tug Arthur did, but the sword didn’t move. Slowly, others came forward to try and fail, and Arthur stood by, smirking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Put your backs into it, lads,” he joked. “Let’s get six to try to pull it out this time, come on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silence was palpable, and eventually everyone just watched and waited, unsure of what to think. Arthur only rolled his eyes and stepped forward again, grasped the sword by the hilt and pulled it free just as easily as he did the first time. He held the sword aloft, and the artificial lights of the office reflected off the blade like a beacon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name,” he said, not even joking a little bit now, “is Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, and I’m going to leave now if that’s alright by you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How?” someone found the courage to ask. “How the hell did you do that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur sheathed the sword with all the regality of an actual royal. “This blade is mine as it was always meant to be. It would never fail me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is fucking insane,” someone else breathed. “We’ve lost it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come off it,” a voice from the back called. “It’s just a trick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Murmurs of agreement joined in as people were released from that one suspended moment of awe. The clamor got louder as they started to push forward, calling for his confinement, but one sentence cut through all the noise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll pay bail,” Elaine said with a confidence she didn’t feel, and that seemed to be enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey was more than willing to allow ehr to do so - Elaine wasn’t exactly sure if she was actually allowed, but the inspector seemed to be doing his best to just get Arthur out of his office. He kept shooting the so-called king looks that were wreathed in mystery. It could have been belief, it could have been anger, it could have been fear, but it didn’t matter in the long run. Less than thirty minutes later, Arthur and Elaine were once again in her rental car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The easy nature of the ride before was missing, and Elaine just sat in the driver’s seat, hands gripping the wheel, and not moving. Her silence seemed to prompt Arthur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Elaine,” he said with a seriousness that drew her attention. “I honestly didn’t know how I would have gotten out of that without you. Although, you’re the one who brought me here so -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Elaine said with no bite. “Just shut up. How the hell did you do that back there?”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you wanted me to shut up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Arthur, I’m fucking serious,” she said, her voice rising a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at her with sympathy which made Elaine tense up all the more. He was looking at her as if he was explaining something simple, answering a question a toddler might inquire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told them all inside.” Arthur’s hand held Excalibur’s hilt, a wry smile on his lips. “I’m Arthur Pendragon, and you believe me, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” she snapped, startling him. “There’s no fucking way I believe you. That doesn’t make sense, but I think a small part of me wants it to. It’s probably just a byproduct of having to hear and read and learn about this shit all day.” Elaine took a deep breath, and then dug through her purse for her phone. “I’m going to pull up a map, and you are going to point to where home is, okay? And then that’s it, Mr. Arthur Pendragon. I’m going to drop you off and go home and forget about this because if I don’t, the police will probably be locking </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>up next time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Google maps on her screen, she handed it over to Arthur who looked as if she just handed over some interesting bug. He looked at the screen then looked at her in a way that reminded Elaine of those confused dog videos. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She groans and takes it back, zooming out so the entire island was on screen. “You better not be faking this or on some kind of drugs because this will </span>
  <em>
    <span>haunt </span>
  </em>
  <span>me if so. Now, what looks familiar?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur looked in wonder at the phone, and Elaine couldn’t help but doubt her own accusation. How can you act that well? He pointed, “This looks familiar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She zoomed in, and they continued on like this until Arthur pointed one last time. “There. That’s home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine glanced down and actually snorted. “You’re committed if this is an act. Okay, King Arthur, let’s go to Caerleon.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A King With a Crown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sure everyone who's read this can tell I don't proofread before I post. I know - I'm such a risk taker. I'm just addicted to the feeling of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I love the feeling of uncertainty when I post and wonder if someone will tell me I including a character and then they vanished or if I misspelled someone's name or forgot how many inches are in a foot.</p><p>In all honestly, it's gonna be the tenses. </p><p>RIP you, I guess.</p><p>Now that I got that out of my system, enjoy the new chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It took a while for Elaine to warm back up to him, but once she did, she and Arthur were snarking it up just as much as they had on the ride there. Arthur mostly asked her about her class - he couldn’t get over it being called Arthurian Literature - God, Merlin would </span>
  <em>
    <span>die -</span>
  </em>
  <span> and frankly, it was both sorrowful and hopeful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes Morgana was on his side, which were usually his favorite stories, and sometimes she wasn’t. Sometimes his mother was around, and sometimes she wasn’t. Sometimes Arthur wasn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>raised </span>
  </em>
  <span>as a prince which sounded as appealing as it did foreign. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of the biggest surprises was sometimes Gwaine was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>nephew. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur wished he could tease him about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guinevere always seemed to end up with Lancelot, though, which he found both humorous and painful. Not one moment since her return to Camelot did Arthur even truly suspect Gwen of being unfaithful to him, but once burned, twice shy. It’s not like Arthur could ever forget finding them together, but it did ease his mind knowing it was an enchantment. He said constantly to himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The distraction of driving helped with shaking some of his darker thoughts away. It wasn’t as personal as riding a horse, but it was so much faster and much more comfortable, and you could bring so many things with you! When Arthur asked how long the ride would be, he did not anticipate anything shorter than a day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll be there in about an hour,” Elaine said casually, quickly glancing down at her phone to confirm her answer. “Not a bad drive at all, honestly. This is a day trip.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minorly thrown by terminology but definitely too excited to ask, Arthur basically vibrated in his seat. After centuries he was finally going home, and it would only take an hour. Was this being lucky? Arthur was unfamiliar with the sensation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” Elaine started, “your Merlin, what kind of Merlin is he?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, grisly old man? Wise, Yoda-like fellow? Whatever the heck he was in that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Excalibur </span>
  </em>
  <span>movie? Spill.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One, I have never seen a movie in my entire life -” Elaine rolled her eyes, “ - and two, he only would disguise himself as an old man when he needed to use magic. He’s usually just a young man my age.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine frowned but nodded. “Okay, okay, I hear you, but why would Merlin need to hide the fact that he does magic. I mean, like, he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Merlin. </span>
  </em>
  <span>People hear the word magic and they think of him. A stereotypical wizard is modeled after him, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but this gave Arthur pause nonetheless. The idea that the concept of magic is tied so closely to someone whom Arthur never would have expected of having it was a bit to process. This is also not a part of Camelot history he was proud of. “Well, magic wasn’t legal in Camelot at the time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine actually laughed. “Camelot didn’t have magic? Seriously?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face felt hot. “No. Sorcery was seen as evil, and under King Uther it was almost wiped out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well if it was fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Uther </span>
  </em>
  <span>thank makes sense then.” Elaine nodded. “He was always a dick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Years of living in the tension of court life was the only thing stopping Arthur from visually reacting, and thankfully, she changed the subject. “But you think Merlin is in Caerleon?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Lady of the Lake said that he went home, and that’s where Camelot used to be, so it’s as good a place as any.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Elaine lost her smile a bit. “The Lady of the Lake said go here, so that’s where you’re going. That’s where I’m taking you.” She shook her head. “Jesus fucking Christ, I can't believe - woah!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The entire car seemed to rock from a sudden gust of wind, almost sending them careening into the next lane and into oncoming traffic. Elaine wrestled with the wheel for a second before things returned back to a smooth cruise. Arthur was holding onto his seat belt for dear life and decided that he actually did like riding horses way more than driving cars. “What just happened?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine’s eyes were wide. “I don’t know. That came out of nowhere. Is this just English weather?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thunder crashed in the distance, and dark clouds swirled in the sky like circling vultures. The air tingled with something, but Arthur didn’t recognize it as magic. This storm didn’t feel natural, though. “Just keep going.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t have to tell me twice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They drove some more until they passed a sign declaring their arrival. “Where exactly do you want to be dropped off?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine was tense, her attitude matching with grimey weather outside. Arthur looked around at the houses and stores and the trees that were almost bent backwards by the force of the wind. By cursory glance, Arthur caught sight of a street name that actually made him laugh. Pointing at it, he said “that street would be perfect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine looked. “Huh, okay. Do you know what a clotpole is?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me,” Arthur said with delight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they turned, Arthur had a brief moment of panic as they passed by many different houses on both sides. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where do I stop?” Elaine asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur looked out his window and then out her’s. “Um, I’m not sure. It’s on this road . . .”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elain’s face pinched. “I’m going to need a little more than that, you know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur didn’t know what to tell her, and they just scooted further as rain started to fall. The wind beat the car to the right, and Arthur could see how tight Elaine was holding onto the wheel by how white her knuckles were.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through gritted teeth, she asked, “do you know if England gets hurricanes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur didn’t know what that was and opened his mouth to say so when a flash of red caught his eye. There was a small house on the very end on the right with a twisted, old apple tree sitting strong in the front yard. There was a flag tied to it, a red one with a gold dragon decorating the front. The wind was all but pulling it out, unfurling it completely. Arthur felt his breath leave his body. “There.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wind was so loud, it was almost hard to hear each other in the car. Arthur pointed. “There! That’s his house!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine maneuvered the car into the little drive way, and Arthur shot out like a bullet. The wind tugged at his cloak, and the heavy fabric unbalanced him. The rain all but seemed to throw itself in his eyes, and Arthur had never described a storm as aggressive before, but this one seemed out to get him. He almost slipped on the front steps, but eventually made it to the door. There was a glass case over the mailbox, attached to the house that held a very familiar sight. Any doubt that this wasn’t the place fled, and Arthur banged on the door, trying to be louder than the screaming wind and thunder. “Merlin! It’s me, open up!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Merlin!” </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang, bang, bang. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Merlin, it’s Arthur!” </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang, bang, bang. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He left this morning,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur jumped and spun around to see an older woman standing on her own poach next door, watching him was a simple sadness. She was bundled up in a shawl but was speaking loudly enough to shout. “He left almost an hour ago. Came by to say goodbye and return a dish I gave him. Are you a friend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur nodded numbly. “He’s gone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He always said that he was waiting for his brother to come up, but that things were complicated. I helped him furnish the room.” The woman gave him a disapproving look. “Took you long enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur decided to take that like a man and powered forward. “Did he say where he was going?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman looked depressed again, the wind tugging at her gray hair. “No, he didn’t. Just said that he couldn’t wait anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as she said those words, the flag displaying the Pendragon crest was ripped off the tree and dragged into the churning gray sky. They both watched it go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He always kept those things out, no matter what the weather, so it didn’t feel right to take them down for this storm,” the old woman spoke so softly it was almost hard to hear her. “Not that he ever worried about that display case. Left it out all day and all night as long as I’ve known him. No one’s ever stolen it though, so that’s good. Robber’s left it alone as if by magic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know when he’s coming back?” Arthur asked, casting weary eyes on the case. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think he is,” she said. “This house is for sale.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wind screamed out Arthur’s despair, and he stood there blankly in the rain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Arthur?” Elaine called, half out of her car, but Arthur didn’t know what to say to her. He nodded to the woman and turned to the case. Placing a hand on it, Arthur could actually feel the magic on it. He had never been able to sense magic before, but considering there was relatively no magic in this world to speak of, this felt familiar. Slowly, he opened it and pulled out his crown.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He held it in his hands, smoothing his thumb over the designs. He remembered watching this crown rest on his father’s head and wondering how he could ever hope to carry it. He remembered when he wore it for the first time and felt as if its weight would drag him down. Holding it now was a reminder - as if he could ever forget. It was just as clean and fine as the last time he wore it. And Merlin kept it waiting for him.If he wasn’t so disheartened, Arthur would make a joke about once a manservant always a manservant, but there was no way he could even summon a smile now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur held it close to his chest as he went back to the car just for the cover. The woman watched him go, saying nothing, and Elaine unlocked the door for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” she asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur started at the crown. “He left. He left today, and I have no idea where he went. How am I supposed to find him now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t answer. Of course she didn’t, what answer could she possibly give?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Here was Arthur Pendragon, returned to the mortal world after all this time, donned with his crown and Excalibur, and yet he was as useless as he always seemed to be.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Where Home Was</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur was back in the pool on Avalon, safe in the mist and the forest where magic hums with a serene security that he never knew he couldn’t live without. Someone takes his hand, and Arthur follows it to Freya’s concerned eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your Majesty,” she said, her voice echoey and wispy, like ripples on the water. “You must hurry. You’re running out of time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where?” he asks. “I will travel across time itself if you would give me a direction.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Home,” she says, “he went home. Follow him there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur cried. “He wasn’t there. I took too long, and he left!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come home.” Her fingers were fading from his grasp. “Come home before it is too late and save Albion.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur asks, reaching out and -</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was back in the car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur’s chest was heaving, and the rain bombarding the windshield in front of him. His arm was stretched out in a very cliche expression of desperation. He sheepishly brought it back to him and curled it around the crown in his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Arthur?” Elaine asked. “You’ve been asleep for a while. Are you feeling okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded, not having the energy to speak. He was lucky Elaine was kind enough to not keep her word and leave him on the front steps of Merlin’s empty house. They were going back to Glastonbury, and Elaine was going to drop him back off at that police station and she was going back to her hotel and forget about this. Arthur wished he could forget about this. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The weather had gotten worse, and she had to focus on driving so they didn’t talk as much. That was fine, Arthur needed to wallow. He needed to come up with what to do now. Freya kept saying home, but if home isn’t where Camelot was, then where was it? Did she mean Ealdor? Arthur wasn’t sure he could find that town on one of his old maps much less on a phone. So where does that leave him?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a car going back to the very beginning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some twisted part of him wished he had never left Avalon. The only sadness that existed on Avalon was that which he had brought on himself. All old tears, and none of this new agony. Maybe Arthur should have stayed dead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wind continued to howl, and Elaine turned on the radio to have something to listen to. The broadcast was talking about sudden storms and surprise earthquakes and floods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has the Apocalypse started?” she muttered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Probably, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur though. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I think I’m supposed to do something about that but I have no clue how. I can’t even find my best friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rain fell harder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The trip back seemed shorter somehow, and before he knew it, Arthur felt a soothing tug in his heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s where we met,” Elaine said, trying to sound chipper. She then squinted. “Who the hell is down by the lake in this weather?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur saw a car parked on the side of the world, the driver somewhere down by the shore. The tug got stronger, harsher. Arthur slowly sat up, twisting to keep watching even as they drove by.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop,” he said suddenly. The first word he’d said since they started on the way back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Elaine said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop the car!” Arthur reached out and grabbed the wheel, twisting it to the left as Elaine screamed, the tires squealing in the mud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck!” Elaine shouted. “What the fuck is wrong with you? What - Arthur, get back in the car!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it was too late. Arthur was out, crown in one hand, and sprinting towards the parked car in the rain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop!” Elaine half got out. “I’m not waiting for you this time!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay!” he screamed back, working hard to keep the wind from stealing his voice. “Thank you for everything, Lady Elaine! Thank you so much!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Arthur!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The car wasn’t parked carefully. It was haphazardly thrown into the mud; the driver’s door was still open. Glancing in, Arthur saw that the keys were still in the ignition although the car wasn’t on. There was a note sitting on the passenger seat, but Arthur couldn’t read it. It was in modern English, and while Freya helped him learn how to speak now, there wasn’t time to learn how to read or write. Arthur tossed it back into the car and followed the muddy footsteps down towards the lake, hand up to shield his fact from the weather.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hope is a dangerous thing, but Arthur always enjoyed taking risks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time it seemed to pay off considering he saw someone standing in the middle of the storm at the very edge of the water. Arthur hurried down, trying not to slip and tumble down into the mud which would be a very unkingly thing to do. There was a bubble of happiness growing in his chest and tears gathering behind his eyes, though. Which was technically also unkingly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why the hell did he care again?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Arthur got closer he saw a young man, too skinny for his age, wearing a scarf -</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><ul>
<li><em><span>a fucking scarf -</span></em></li>
</ul><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-holding a gun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur carrened to a stop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man tossed a small pebble into the water and watched it ripple before releasing a long breath. Then he slowly brought the gun up to his temple and -</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Arthur said, “I would have thought you’d have gone for a sword. It’d be more traditional than </span>
  <em>
    <span>this.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The figure stopped. The hand holding the gun was shaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Arthur quickly continued, “I never would have pegged you for this at all, really. Seems much too complex for someone who’s mental capabilities are outpaced by a snail.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man slowly lowered the gun and turned around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin looked exactly the same. And comparatively, so did Arthur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Once and Future King waited as his friend’s mouth opened and closed and who’s eyes started to fill with unnoticed tears. Arthur was pretty sure he was crying too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin,” he said, the effect of the words not landing sense his voice broke on the name. “It’s already raining too much without you contributing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You -” Merlin’s voice sounded the same too. “You just came back from the dead, and all you do is heckle me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Arthur said, “according to Freya I never fully died so something like that. I don’t know, magic was never my forte.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin’s eyes widened at the name, but he said, “you have a forte?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do. I’m a king, aren’t I?” Arthur showed off the crown in his right hand and flashed the sword at his hip. “I have all the tools.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin’s breath hitched, and he finally dropped the gun in his hand. As soon as it landed in the mud, the world erupted.The very earth under their feet shifted and groaned, buckling under them and jerking as if having a seizure. Arthur fought to keep his balance, hand reaching out and screaming, “Merlin!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only to be answered by two cries of “Arthur!” which shouldn’t have been as confusing as it was. It did up the stress of the situation however, to see Elaine standing at the top of the hill by Merlin’s abandoned car as a tree was fully uprooted and all but thrown towards the water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on!” Merlin screamed, and not for the first time, Arthur watched as his eyes burned gold and the air around him seemed to buzz and then curl. There was that feeling of familiarity - Arthur had never known how much magic was seeped into the very kingdom - as he was listed and all but tossed back onto the road, Elaine and Merlin close behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once standing steadily again, Arthur cupped a hand over his mouth to be heard over the wind. “This storm isn’t you?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin looked affronted. “No, idiot, of course this isn’t me! Does this feel like magic to you?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t feel normal!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we please go?!” Elaine screamed. “A car! Let’s get in one and go! Please, there’s a fucking earthquake happening here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, let’s go,” Merlin nodded, and then snapped his hand over Arthur’s wrist as if the ancient king was an irresponsible toddler. The three of them went to Merlin’s car sense it was closest and jumped in just as a chunk of the hill rolled away. Arthur saw that Elaine was screaming because her mouth was open but it was way too loud to actually hear it. The wind was blowing so hard his lips felt chapped and his ears felt raw. Merlin shoved them in his car and roared it to life, tearing away from the crumbling edge and abc on the road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go faster, go faster, go faster!” Elaine cried from the back, hand moving as if to physically push them on. She stopped with a jolt and absolute despair coated her face. “Oh my God, I left the rental behind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Arthur turned to Merlin, “could you, like, magic that back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin scowled at the road. “I can’t. That was my last drop of magic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Arthur all but screamed. “What do you mean? What, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>dry?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In case you haven’t noticed, you clotpole!” Merlin screamed back. “There isn’t any magic left in this world! You’re lucky I had enough to save your ass, </span>
  <em>
    <span>as always</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I might add.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what’s more unbelievable,” Elaine snapped. “The fact that you two are having an actual argument over the existence of </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic </span>
  </em>
  <span>or the fact that that’s the second time today I’ve heard the word ‘clotpole’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur turned around. “We were just lifted into the air by a spell!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as this was said, a piece of the road split before them, creating a ditch that they were barreling towards at 60 mph. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Elaine cursed,  throwing her arms over her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin blindly reached out and threw his arm over Arthur’s chest. At the contact, gold once again returned to the warlock’s eyes, and the car lifted into the air gracefully and was set back down safely over the crack in the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There!” Arthur screamed. “There was more magic!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine shook her head, eyes tightly shut. “Nope, nope nope nope. I do not accept that. That means that the whole sword thing at the police station was real, and that you’re real, and I can’t have that on top of an earthquake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The what at a police station?” Merlin asked, shooting a look at Arthur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur glared right back. “Don’t you give me that look. I was going to be arrested, what was I supposed to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my God,” Merlin groaned. “I spent over three centuries wishing you would return and after two seconds in your presence I can’t even remember why I wanted that in the first place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because being the only one alive from the Medieval era sucks, and I’m awesome,” Arthur retorted with the biggest shit eating grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Awesome’,” Merlin repeated in disgust. “Who the hell taught you the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘awesome’</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glanced back at Elaine in the rearview mirror and she looked at him as if she just processed that he was there. “Wait, are you Merlin or Emrys?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin’s jaw dropped, and he looked at Arthur. “You honestly think I still went by those names? You told other people about that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur threw his hands in the air. “What else was I supposed to do? I’ve been back in the mortal world less than a day. You’re lucky that I found you so fast.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin opened his mouth to say something snarky back but then paused. He worked his jaw and kept his eyes fixed on the road, a small, sad smile on his lips. “Yeah, I guess so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur relaxed his arms from where they were stubbornly crossed over his chest. He studied his friend seriously for the first time in many years, and silence settled over the car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So that was home,” Arthur finally said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Merlin asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Freya said you went home. I thought that meant Camelot, but when I found your house there, your neighbor said you’d left. Home was Avalon.” Arthur looked at him expectantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin met his gaze for a second before returning to look at the road. “It’s where I knew you were.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur felt that like a punch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His friend then shrugged. “Although people have claimed to be you and find you for centuries, so it was always ground zero.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, enough of that, I can’t do this right now,” Elaine interrupted. She wasn’t buckled in, her hair was plastered to her face, and she was shaking a little. Arthur felt like a prat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. Merlin, this is Elaine. She has been helping me to find you. Elaine, may I introduce you to Merlin, my best friend,” Arthur said, channeling the always at the ready nobility he possessed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin shot him another look, one of surprise and nostalgia. He gave a little laugh. “Haven’t heard anyone talk like that in a long time. Nice to meet you, Elaine.” He looked at her again through the mirror. “Thank you for taking care of this idiot. You can call me Colin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Elaine Patrick, nice to meet you,” she answered quietly. “Where exactly are we going?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t know,” Merlin admitted. “‘Away’ seemed like a good idea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about we go back to the police station?” Arthur suggested. “It’s as good a place as any, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, please,” Elaine chimed in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, cop shop it is,” Merlin pulled out his phone and turned on the GPS. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur glared at it. “So regular maps are too good for you too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the twenty-first century, get with the times.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just go in this time -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the two boys resolved to banter again, neither of them noticed that Elaine found a folded piece of paper on the floor of the back seat.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Word With Freya</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>When they walked in the front door, the woman behind the front desk actually did a double take. They didn’t even get the chance to talk to her because she was up and out before anyone could do anything. She came back with Geoffrey, and the man looked like he was choking on a rock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why the hell are you back here?” he asked, staring down Arthur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry about my friend here,” Merlin said stepping forward. “I’ll pay for any damages.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmf.” Geoffrey kept his glare even as it moved. “So, are you Merlin or Emrys?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin opened his mouth but shut it with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>click </span>
  </em>
  <span>as he too moved to glare at Arthur. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur threw his hands in the air. “I have no idea what you want from me! I went from king to dead to- to - Elaine, what did you call me when we first met?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Elaine had not been focusing on the conversation. She had been quiet the whole drive here. “Oh, um, a cosplayer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A cosplayer,” Arthur repeated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I,” Merlin breathed, “am going to have an aneurysm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so he really is just sick in the head?” the woman behind the desk asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin opened his mouth to respond before he just sighed and shook his head. “I can’t even get into what all he is. Anyway, we’re here because the world seems to be collapsing in on itself outside and the roads aren’t safe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey was still frowning but this time he nodded in agreement. “We don’t know what’s happening outside. No one predicted anything like this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s like the end of the world,” the woman added.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The end of the world, huh.” Arthur sighed and gave a shrug. “Well, we’re supposed to do something about that. Freya said something about me only coming back when Albion needed me most. Though I’m not fully sure what that means or what I’m supposed to do.” He turned to Merlin. “Thoughts?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Freya said that?” Merlin got that mix of hope and loneliness in his eyes again. “You were really with her?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When I woke up, yes,” Arthur nodded. “She was the one who told me what to do.” He scowled. “In the typically cryptic manner all you magical creatures seem to indulge in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin gave a small laugh. “Too bad we just can’t ask her what to do now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two men turned and looked at Elaine who was watching them with a guarded expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t you ask her?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can’t make it to her lake, and Merlin is fresh out of magic.” Arthur frowned and folded his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin perked up a bit though. “But I did do magic! To get us over that one fissure!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this conversation actually happening?” the woman asked Geoffrey. Geoffery said nothing but shrugged as his glare held.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, then do it again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin looked down at his hands. “I don’t even know what I did for that extra burst of power, though . . .”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It happened when you soccer-momed Arthur,” Elaine chimed in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s a soccer-mom?” the mythical king asked, but everyone ignored him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s right!” Merlin smiled. “Maybe it was a team effort!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned to Arthur who raised his hands in caution. “Woah, wait, I don’t know any magic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin nodded. “Yes, but you’ve been in Avalon for centuries. You must have been soaking up the Old Magic the entire time. That’s probably what brought you back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur was still apprehensive but nodded just the same. “Then what do we need to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin faltered for a second before turning to Geoffrey. “I don’t suppose you have bowls just, lying about here, do you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geoffrey sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They found themselves in the break room hovering over an old, glass ashtray which Merlin filled with water from the fountain in the hallway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this blasphemous or something?” Arthur asked, skeptical.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t really know,” Merlin admitted. “I didn’t think anything of the Old Religion was still around until I saw you again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur gave him a look. “You were still here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin just nodded and changed the subject. “Let’s try this out. Give me your hand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur took it, and Merlin used his free hand to run his fingers over the edge of the bowl. The warlock whispered old words, heavy with magic, and the water started to shimmer much to the surprise of everyone else in the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the -“ Geoffrey started but Elaine quickly shushed him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ripples bloomed out from the center, and slowly Frey’s lovely face shimmered in the water. Arthur had only ever seen her being a serene, magical creature. Strangely demure in ways that he wouldn’t expect, but, seeing Merlin, she lit up almost as bright as the balls of magic that danced around her lake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She breathed his name like it was a prayer - an incantation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Merlin!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her voice was so warm, and Merlin melted under her attention. His fingers tightened their grip on Arthur as if not believing he would be allowed to have two things at once. “Freya, I - I can’t believe -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please, I don’t have long; you’re already running out of magic as we speak, and I have to tell you something,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Freya interrupted, her happy face falling a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur came closer. “What is it? Isn’t this over? I did what I had to do, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not all of it,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Freya said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Remember what I told you before?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Find Merlin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I told you that you would return to the mortal world when Albion’s need is greatest. You have only fulfilled part of your destiny, my king.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur blinked slowly. “Only </span>
  <em>
    <span>part? </span>
  </em>
  <span>What - what </span>
  <em>
    <span>else </span>
  </em>
  <span>do I need to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lights flicked as the storm raged on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Albion,” Merlin repeated, frowning. “Albion is gone. We were conquered hundreds of years ago - and then those people were conquered and so on. There isn’t an Albion anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Freya shook her head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Magic is a place. Albion changed hands and names, but it is still here. You’re standing in it. There is only one thing left of it in its prime, and Arthur already saved you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin’s hands were white from how hard he was holding on to both Arthur and the ashtray.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Now he must take care of the rest of it. The new does not exist without the old, and, through Arthur, they will meet and you, Merlin, will guide the growth once it is one,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Freya continued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, I’m confused,” Arthur waved his free hand and pointed outside where the sky was the ugliest shade of gray. “You’re saying I have to do something about that? You want me to fix the </span>
  <em>
    <span>weather?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not a natural storm, though,” Merlin said. “Someone cast a spell. Wait, if you’re here is Morgana -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Freya shook her head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Lady Morgana’s soul rests and she is receiving the healing she so desperately needed in life. Even if she had the ability to do this damage, she would not want to.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then who -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s not a who - it’s Albion.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Freya’s image stuttered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Without the presence of the Once and Future King, the magic of the land withered. You have felt it haven't you, Merlin? You are a pool of this magic, specifically set aside to protect Arthur. When Arthur was born, magic gave him life and a destiny.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Freya looked a bit lost on how to explain. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Think of it like when it heats up and water is drawn out of a lake or river into the clouds and then falls like rain. The rain helps the plants grow and helps bring life to the world. Think of Arthur’s birth as being a magical drought - so much magic was poured into him that it left a sizable depletion on Albion’s total magic.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But shouldn’t that magic have returned when he did?” Merlin asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Arthur shook his head. “Freya said magic healed me, so I could come back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Freya nodded. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Most priests and priestesses can access the ocean that is Albion’s power, but a few are born of it completely. You two and the Lady Morgana are examples. The world is running out of magic, and without it, it will perish.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin looked outside again. “That’s what that is, then. The world is trying to find magic again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur nodded. “Okay, okay, so how do I give it back?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Freya hesitated, looking at them with sorrowful eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin understood before he did, snapping forward. “No! No, no, absolutely not. We are going to do something else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Merlin -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO!” the warlock shook his head. “I don’t care - I don’t. We’re going to do something else, or we’re not doing anything at all.”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Arthur said. “I have to die.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Desperate Measures</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The overall atmosphere of the police station became very heavy under this revelation, and Arthur felt touched that so many strangers actually gave a shit about whether or not he died. He couldn’t lord over that for too long however since Merlin was starting to hyperventilate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Freya, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he begged, holding her little ashtray closer to his face. “Please, tell me there’s something else we can do? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m so sorry, Merlin,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she whispered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I really wish the first time I see you in centuries I have to deliver this news.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care if the girl in the ashtray says this has to happen,” Geoffrey snarled, crossing his arms. “We are not sacrificing a civilian to appease the </span>
  <em>
    <span>weather. </span>
  </em>
  <span>How Medieval is that - well.” He looks at Arthur and Merlin and coughs a bit into his fist. “You know what I mean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The world is going supernova,” Elaine whispered. “And we’re going to explode.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Your Majesty,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Freya said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“you must return to the place where you drew the sword. There, you must make your choice to either save Albion or damn it. I can’t stay any longer, but please don’t -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a small splash that knocked all the water out of the ashtray and onto the floor; Freya’s face was gone. The connection was lost. Merlin growled and slammed the tray back down, cracking it slightly as thunder boomed outside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was silence as everyone ran through their own thoughts before Arthur sighed dramatically. “My work is never done is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Merlin muttered, folded over the table and holding his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m serious. How is it possible that I’m always so busy? It’s just like we’re back in Camelot. What, do I have a meeting next? A dinner I have to attend, or - God forbid - a </span>
  <em>
    <span>ball.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur scoffed. “What was it you talked about in the car, Elaine? About what you’re doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Oh. I’m kind of on vacation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A vacation,” Arthur nodded sagely. “That’s what I need.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said shut up!” Merlin jack knifed and snarled right in his best friend’s face. “Shut up, okay! Take orders for once, why don’t you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur gave up on trying to lighten the situation and admitted defeat with a sigh. “Come on, Merlin, you know -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Merlin stubbornly shook his head. “No, don’t you fucking start with me. I don’t care, I don’t. I just -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was breathing too hard, his thin chest rising and falling with difficulty. Merlin slammed his hands back on that table once, twice, and screamed in fury before hightailing it out of the break room. Arthur didn’t try to follow him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone else in the room looked after the warlock before turning their attention to the king. Arthur didn’t sway under their gaze. “He’s a little different from when I last saw him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine snorted, “yeah, I imagine so. Let me try to talk to him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, I don’t know if -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just let me try.” She stood up and followed Merlin’s path.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was easy to see where he went, there was like a gust of wind still lingering after his footsteps. It led around the corner and into the men’s bathroom where Elaine loitered in uncertainty for about three seconds before pushing in. It was empty save one closed stall. She walked over and rapped her knuckles gently against the door. “Colin? Or - um, Merlin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a silence that only then made Elaine realize that the sound of heavy breathing had filled the air. A croaking voice dragged itself out of a body. “Leave me alone. Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine dropped her hand. “I can be quiet, but I don’t want to leave you alone right now. You can talk at me if you want to. Get something off your chest. I’m-I’m sorry you have to experience this again. It’s not fair.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again? How do you know about an ‘again’?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m- uh, taking an Arthurian Literature class right now, so . . . I’ve read Le Mor - uh, I’ve read Malory’s book.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A beat of silence. “Ah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine mustered some courage and dug into her pocket for a piece of paper. “I also read this in the car. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but - well, I guess there is no but. I shouldn’t have done it.” She raised her arm and held the note over the top and felt Merlin grab it. His breathing stuttered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was more silence. Elaine leaned her ear against the stall. “Are you doing okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My best friend who’s been dead for centuries saves me from killing myself and now he has to die again and there’s nothing I can about it. On top of that, my suicide not - which was addressed to him - he didn’t even get to read because I wrote in modern English. How okay am I supposed to be?” Merlin snapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine pulled back, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have read it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just -” his voice broke. “It’s just - I’m supposed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>protect</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. That’s my one job, my destiny. It is the only reason I was created in the first place, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>constantly </span>
  </em>
  <span>I fail him. Why can’t I just -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine bangs a fist against the stall in a quick jab, cutting him off. “Stop! Just stop it. If half of the stories are true then there’s no way you failed him. This is just- this is just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She fell silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a sniffle and a deep sigh on the other side of the door which opened with such force it made Elaine jump back. Merlin shouldered past her for the sink, turning the water on and splashing his face. No evidence of what happened in that stall would be seen on his face. When he was done, he glanced down at the note in his hand; his fingers were shaking. With another sigh, Merlin tore the note to bits. Elaine started forward for a second before stopping yourself. “You don’t want him to read it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin cast a bitter smile over his shoulder. “Isn’t the point of a suicide note not being around when it’s read?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin wet it under the tap and squeezed it in his fist before finally throwing it in the trash. “Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t already said to him before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine watched. “He should know regardless. It never hurts to be reminded that people care about you. And that’s for you too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know he cares,” Merlin went to the door. “He cares too much about everyone. That’s why he plans on dying today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wind outside the window roared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine followed him out, and the two of them returned to the breakroom. Arthur and Geoffrey looked up when they entered; the receptionist was brewing coffee like she needed to keep her hands busy. Arthur, who had been leaning against the table with his arms crossed, stood to meet them. He eyed Merlin. “Alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin shook his head in exasperation. “Oh, of course I am. Everything all fixed now, isn’t it? Nothing more to worry about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur frowned and opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the strike of lightning barely half a mile away and the shuddering of the earth under their feet. A piece of the ceiling fell down and landed in Freya’s ashtray.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If we’re going to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve human sacrifice, we need to do it now,” Geoffrey growled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hang on!” Arthur commanded, stumbling for balance. “Before we start formulating a ‘saving the world’ level idea, I need to go to the bathroom. I haven’t used the toilet since before I was dead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He trotted out of the breakroom, bumped his hip into a deck unending some papers before finally disappearing behind the bathroom door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Once and Future King, everybody,” Merlin proclaimed, getting a glass of water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just start on that plan now,” Elaine interjected. “How can we feed more magic into uh, Albion?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t we just make more magic?” the receptionist asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin shook his head, downing his drink. “Magic is finite. There is only so much around - it just . . . fluctuates throughout the world. It’s also tied to </span>
  <em>
    <span>specific </span>
  </em>
  <span>places that are unique to other magic - trust me, I found that out the hard way when I went traveling. The magic of Albion is not that same as that in China or America or even somewhere as close as Germany.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But what if that land is conquered or annexed into another country?” Geoffrey asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin snorted. “You think the forces of nature, time, and life and death care about borderlines?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so we can’t make more magic,” Elaine cupped her jaw. The storm rumbled outside as if it was irritated with the conversation. “Is there a way we can bring magic from elsewhere here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s already happening,” Merlin replied. “Albion </span>
  <em>
    <span>apparently </span>
  </em>
  <span>has a sizable chunk of magic missing from it, so it’s pooling in magic from other places. The magic is mixing and it shouldn’t mix which is causing the world to, I don’t know, implode, I guess?” He let loose a slightly hysterical laugh. “I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” Geoffrey asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin set his cup down and raised an eyebrow. “Me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you said you are of this magic as well, and aren’t you the most powerful out of the two of you? Can you give some magic back? Just enough to stabilize the world?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin’s eyes widened, and his limp hand dropped the cup. “I didn’t even think of that,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Elaine interjected. “Merlin isn’t separate from Albion like Arthur is though!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Geoffrey now turned to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Merlin has always used magic,” Elaine gestured to said warlock. “He’s a part of it - literally. He’s like a- like an arm connected to the body, and Arthur’s like an eyeball that’s been popped out.” She faltered, making a face at her own comparison. She floundered for a little bit, her arms drooping. “Right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin was just staring at her and gave a helpless shrug. “I guess? I mean - you’re not wrong, but -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, let’s just drop it,” Elaine made an ‘x’ in front of her face, shaking her head. “Let’s pretend I didn’t say anything. I’m not the plan person.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which one of you </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>the plan person then?” the receptionist asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Us? Why us? Are you not helping?” Geoffrey turned to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is not my business.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the end of the world!” Elaine cried. “It’s everyone’s business!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The receptionist just shook her head and drank her coffee. “Not my business.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you in </span>
  <em>
    <span>shock?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She flattened her mouth into a line. “Possibly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elaine started towards her. “Do you want to lie down -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m drinking coffee. I’m staying up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not necessarily,” Merlin mused aloud. “You could force it if you really want to. I’ve done it plenty of times.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if that's healthy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we please,” Geoffrey stressed, “focus on the fact that we may or not be sacrificing a mythical king to the forces of the universe please!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of said king, he sure is taking a long time isn’t he?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Elaine realized. “Yeah, he has.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin didn’t say something for a second, but he eventually started to edge towards the door. “He better not have -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sir!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another officer burst into the break room, face bruised and holding a piece of paper in one hand and a crown in another. “That man you arrested earlier today just stole a horse!”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>Merlin froze. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuck.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Before the Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was no possible way for Arthur to know what a mounted police was but he was aware that the fact that he found a horse in the middle of the twenty-first century bordered so close to perfect it just had to be fate. Fate usually worked out with him riding off to his death anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that he didn’t plan to leave, of course. It was just that it was only after Arthur had swiped a piece of paper and a pen from a desk and wrote Merlin a goodbye did he realize he had no idea how to get to the stone because he couldn’t drive a car. The transition to breaking out of the men’s bathroom through the window and into the storm shouldn’t have followed so closely after that realization, but hey, what could you do. The world was ending, and they were lucky enough to already have the solution. They just didn’t want to use it. Which would be touching if not for that fact that this was his destiny and something he really needed to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was when the storm leveled for a few seconds and drew Arthur’s eye to the familiar sight of a horse stable. Providence. He darted over and knocked out the lone officer who was in there leaving his crown on the man’s chest and swiftly mounted a horse that was a little too agreeable to him riding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again. Fate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If that wasn’t a hint that he was doing the right thing, the clear path through all the destruction and the voice he could hear calling to him would be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“My king . . .”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t Freya - Arthur couldn’t fully name who it was, but he knew that much. The voice was old - deep like the roots of a big tree. It sounded familiar, and spoke in a worried tone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This way . . . come this way . . .”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>hoped it was Albion and not some monster about to kill him. He knew there weren’t any monsters left, but the worry still stood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The horse - whose name he didn’t know - barely needed any guiding. She ran confidently over fractured asfalt and through the wind and rain. No hesitation; it’s like she knew where she was going.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“My king . . .!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know,” Arthur whispered, fighting down his dismay. “I’m coming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The place where he drew the sword from the stone was a little forest on the outskirts of Camelot. Camelot as in the kingdom, not the capital, which means it was closer to the station than Arthur would have particularly liked. He was trying to spend this last ride taking in the world around him, but the wind was blowing in his face, and rain was in his eyes, and the horse was already pulling up to the edge of the forest. A part of him wanted to dismount and walk through the trees on his own, but cars were faster than horses. Any moment now, Merlin would realize he left and would be hunting him down. The forest seemed to part for him, easily finding places where a horse could pass, no branches touching him as he walked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woods weren’t that different. Arthur could almost believe he was home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The earthquakes weren’t here, and the trees blocked the wind and rain. Once he reached the clearing with a large stone - miraculously still there - the storm had petered out. There were even bits of sunlight that broke through the canopy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You came . . . ! You came back . . .”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said I would,” Arthur reassured as he got off the horse. He didn’t tie her up; he wouldn’t be riding her again. The grass was dying around the rock, a perfect circle that reached out to the edge of the trees. The stone itself wasn’t even wet from the rain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Closer . . .”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur obeyed, but the maelstrom of emotions swirling in his stomach rose with every step. He was determined not to falter though. This is not the first time he thought he was walking to his death. This is not the first time he’s died. It’s not even his first time being here in the forest. The storm may have been absent from this clearing, but inside Arthur it’s strength was only matched by his determination.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he reached the stone, he could see the crack in the top where Excalibur once rested. He reached out and brushed the stone with his hand. The earth shivered. At his touch, the rocks moved. They reformed and reshaped themselves to form a longer platform, a stone bed. Steps even formed, bursting out of dirt right at Arthur’s feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur swallowed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“My king . . . rest . . . we must rest now . . .”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur took a breath that disappeared in his lungs just as quickly as he inhaled. WIth hand he wished weren’t shaking, Arthur removed the scarlet cloak that rested on his shoulders, his last tie to who he was. The king shed his crown and now the knight sheds his colors. Arthur won’t approach this as anything but himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Rest . . .”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur climbed the steps to the stone bed and sat down for a second. The rain and the wind were starting to infringe on this peaceful clearing, whatever magic was being used to keep this place untouched was failing. The rain made soft sighs against the stone. Arthur unsheathed Excalibur and looked at himself in the blade.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t look like a king - he didn’t even look like a civilized man. He was pall, gaunt, and his hair was dark and plastered to his face. He looked worried, stricken. The rain hit the blade and ran over his reflection. He was crying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instantly, Arthur tried to rub his face, but chainmail wasn’t good for wiping tears and the rain was quick to replace them anyway. There was no way Arthur was going to his death crying; even if it felt like the world was crying with him. Merlin would call him a self-centered prat for that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur let out a shuddering breath, the wind matching him. “It wasn’t enough,” he whispered to the storm. “I’m grateful to even have a chance, but it wasn’t long enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Once and Future King lifted his face to the sky, taking a moment to feel the world one last time even as it unraveled around him. He hoped Merlin wouldn’t be by himself anymore. Keeping his eyes closed, Arthur lay down on the rock, his heart above the groove in which Excalibur would rest once again. It took some effort, but he was able to point the blade to his chest and breathed out, “Long live Camelot,” and bace himself to -</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“STOP!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur’s eyes snapped open happily, but the feeling didn’t stay. He growled as he sat up, resting his sword in his lap. “You got here faster than I thought you would.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin glared at him with golden eyes, magic churning inside him but too weak to escape and influence the world. “Well, I didn’t take a fucking horse here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who drove you? Was it Elaine?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin marched forward. “I had a police escort -” He was cut off as he hit something. Arthur raised an eyebrow as Merlin held up a hand and pushed on what seemed to be air. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A barrier,” Merlin scowled, his face twisting into something dark in his fury. He looked scary somehow, with his golden eyes. “It’s keeping me </span>
  <em>
    <span>out.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur stared at him for a second before letting out a guffaw. “No way, really?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up. That just means you have to come to me so hurry up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur let out a softer laugh and shook his head. “I’m not going to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be a dick,” Merlin pressed both hands against the barrier. “Get off the table and come </span>
  <em>
    <span>here.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ground about twenty feet away split open and dirt exploded out. Arthur raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin’s eyes flashed but again so magic was cast. “Arthur, get off your fat ass and come here. This is dangerous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah.” Arthur showed off his sword. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Arthur,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Merlin snarled. “Tell me, how long did you think it would take for us to notice you were gone? Did you even think we would? Did you honestly think we wouldn’t figure out you ran away and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>come after you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I didn’t, I - Oh, my God, you actually think I’m stupid,” Arthur said, realization taking over his face. “All this time I thought it was a joke, but no, you actually think I’m -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do, but answer me.” Merlin banged his hands against the shield. “Did you think we wouldn’t come?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘did you think I wouldn’t come’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t need to be said. The two were so focused on each other that they didn’t notice Elaine and Officer Geoffrey stumbling into the clearing. The wind picked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I knew you’d come,” Arthur said gently. “I just don’t think you should have to watch me die a second time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin sucked in a breath. “You don’t have to worry about that considering you’re not dying today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur sighed. “Merlin-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was magic in that word, but no spell was cast. “No! This isn’t happening again. You are not going to do this! I don’t care if the world fucking explodes, you’re not going to kill yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be stupid, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mer</span>
  </em>
  <span>lin,” Arthur put effort into his old dig. “If the world exploded, I’d die anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about that note?” Merlin backed up and threw himself at the shield. He bounced off without an impact. “What about that note you left me? I’m not going to read it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time, Arthur scowled. “Merlin -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you want me to know what your last will and testimony was, you’re going to have to tell me yourself.” Merlin threw his shoulder against the barrier again. “I’m not going to read it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Well, I didn’t get to read yours,” Arthur snapped. “I couldn’t even read it, so what does that say about you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stick around and I’ll tell you what it said,” Merlin punched the barrier, “back at the station, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not that curious,” Arthur lied, “and you’re bad at stalling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That one earned a bitter smile. “It’s been working so far.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthu snorted. “Not really, but it’s somehow still nice to talk to you, even if it is for the last time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The anger that Merlin had been trying to hold onto melted off his face as if the rain had washed it away. Now an overarching panic and sorrow showed on his face, and Arthur was no coward and continued to hold his gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin started to shake his head, slowly at first but picking up speed as his eyes flashed again. “No, no no no, Arthur, please. Please don’t do this. I can’t survive this again, please don’t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad I got to see you again, and this world. It’s different, but not bad.” Arthur laid back down, situating himself again. The wind pulled at his hair, a gust picking up his cloak and dragging it away. Typical, Arthur laughed wetly. “I’m glad I got to save you for once.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to look at his friend, but he could still see the movement of Merlin sliding to his knees. He could hear his whisper. “You have saved me. You’ve always saved me, Arthur.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur smiled, another tear escaping. Maybe it was raining so hard so no one would notice. Arthur raised Excalibur again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Merlin cast a spell, but of course nothing happened. He tried again and again. Throwing everything he had at the shield. “Please, wait. We’ll figure out something else. I can’t lose you again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please. Just listen TO ME!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur opened his eyes to see the swirling gray sky above him, to see the trees sway, and feel the rain again. He soaked it up. A memory came to mind. “That’s the thing, Merlin. I never listen to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stabbed himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Excalibur slotted right into the rock, sliding through his heart, and out his back. The cracking of his sternum made Arthur gag and blood bubbled up his throat and over his lips. Then came the pain. White hot but so cold at the same time and tearing through every nerve in his body. He screamed. He couldn’t help it. If he didn’t feel his hands around the sword in his chest, Arthur would have been back on the battlefield. Mordred would be in front of him, a traitor and his murderer. He would think he was still being struck down by an enemy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something in him gave. A dam broke and he was flooded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur gasped and choked on his blood. This didn’t happen last time. Mordred didn’t do </span>
  <em>
    <span>this. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He felt like he was bleeding out of every pour in his body, out of his eyes, mouth, ears. The tips of his hair felt like they were dripping with body. He was being drained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He writhed, but Excalibur kept him pinned down. He was a butterfly under a glass, a mouse on a thorn. His hands usually held his chest, his head, his mouth, trying desperately to keep it in. Keep it in. He was fading.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a scream that wasn’t his. There was a shadow rushing to his side. Hands that weren’t his were on his chest, on the sword, trying desperately to pull it out of the stone, out of Arthur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He can’t do it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur thought through a haze, </span>
  <em>
    <span>only I can do it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He used to be proud of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His skin felt too tight, like he had a sunburn, every twist almost flayed him. Hands wet with rain and blood encased his, and Arthur could hear a voice although it felt too close to be understood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“- to me! Give it me!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it felt natural to obey, so Arthur, releasing one last, helpless sob, let go and was drained. The pain lasted until the world went white.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Home, Finally</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>“Yet some men say in many parts of England that King Arthur is not dead, but had by the will of our Lord Jesus into another place; and men say that he shall come again, and he shall win the holy cross.”<br/>― Thomas Malory, Le Morte d'Arthur</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Arthur shouldn’t have, but he opened his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He blinked twice but still felt woozy. It was somewhat dark, and it took a while for his eyes to adjust. It was dusty, and he sneezed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bless you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Arthur went to rub his eyes but made a face when he saw his hand covered in cobwebs. “What the fuck?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did you say?” a different voice asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pretty sure he used the word right, Arthur turned to start a fight with whatever 21st century bastard was giving  him shit in a moment where he was pissed off and tired, but he stuttered to a halt upon seeing the man’s face. .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Uther Pendragon was a lot like his son. He shouldn’t be alive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The King of Camelot - </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur, according to the crown on his father’s head - smiled good-naturedly and slapped his back. “Don’t look so worried. He’ll make a good manservant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Arthur asked, louder than necessary, but Uther ignored him and walked off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walked off into the crowded hall, full of servants, nobles, visiting diplomats, and a sorceress crushed under a chandelier. There was dust and webs everywhere, like they had been seated at these tables for centuries. A hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder in a tight grip, nails digging into his skin. He was pulled off balance and turned to see Morgana glaring at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be a brat, Arthur,” she whisper screamed. “Only you would get a servant who saved your life and be </span>
  <em>
    <span>upset </span>
  </em>
  <span>about it. Straighten up. Smile.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned him to face the masses again and pushed him forward. Arthur could hear her giggle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What the fuck,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he whispered again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My lord?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perking up instantly, Arthur turned back around to see Guinevere standing there, a servant once again, looking concerned. Still so beautiful and sweet as a maid as she ever was a queen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She reached out but stopped shy of touching him. “My lord, are you sure you’re alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was here. She was alive. She was talking to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gwen?” he choked out, and her eyes widened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked like she was about to move to grab him - oh, yes please - but a voice cut her off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me take him back to his room, Gwen. He’s probably just tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A hand landed on his shoulder, familiar and friendly, and Arthur finally relaxed. Merlin was at his side, smiling with the same wondrous disbelief Arthur was feeling. He hurriedly followed Merlin out of the dining hall. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>dining hall. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They were in the castle. They were home, and everyone was here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><em><span>“</span></em><span>Merlin,”</span> <span>Arthur breathed, chasing his friend up the stairs towards his room. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His room. These stairs. Just walking this way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur had to pause at a window and look outside. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the streets were full of people. There was no rain, no earthquakes. There weren’t any cars. Arthur laughed, high and loud and more than a little hysterical. He laughed so hard it hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hurt really bad actually.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring it, he dashed up the stairs and he and Merlin hid out in his room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Merlin,”</span> <span>Arthur repeated, unable to say anything else.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did it,” Merlin said. “I told you you weren’t dying today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Merlin!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur squeaked. He took a deep breath. “You took it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin was shaking with excitement. “Elaine mentioned it. She said I never separated from Albion like you did. She used a lot of weird analogies, but she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>right. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I had just never thought of it like that.” Merlin laughed. “Guess she did learn something from that Arthurian Lit class.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You never separated - what? What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin rocked on his heels. “You needed to return magic to Albion. I’m a part of Albion. You gave it to me, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>decided what to do with it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur laughed and shook his head in wonder. “You turned back time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I figured time out maybe thirty years ago. Or over a hundred years in the future. Depends on your point of view,” Merlin explained. “I just didn’t have enough magic to try anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur laughed again, hand rubbing his chest where it ached. A wound he had already suffered but would be hundreds of years in his future. “How were you able to take me with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin gave him a look. “I would never leave you behind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not what he meant, but Arthur was riding a high. “But what about the future?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, like,” Merlin shrugged. “It hasn’t happened yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur slowly relaxed. “Oh, so I’m going to have to do that again eventually?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin stopped short and took a moment. Before finally just shaking his head. “We have literal decades to figure out how to give magic back. Maybe we could just create a circuit and feed magic in a loop. Who cares! We’ll figure it out because we have </span>
  <em>
    <span>time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have time,” Arthur agreed. Then he realized something. “Holy shit, we can try again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s the point -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>now,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur cried. “I know this time! We know what’s going to happen this time! We can change it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin looked a tad apprehensive. “Trying to change the future that way doesn’t always -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t a Crystal Cave vision, though,” Arthur argued. “We’ve lived it. There are different rules - Freya told me about it at Avalon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin froze. “Oh, holy shit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Freya.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur smiled. “Lancelot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Balinor,” Merlin said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gwaine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morgana.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morgana,” Merlin repeated, awed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They took a moment, though they could have taken more. They had all the time in the world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, Merlin,” Arthur eventually said. “It looks like we have our work cut out for us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin laughed. “It’ll be nice to have help this time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur shoved him, smiling harder than he ever had before. “What’s first then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, Valiant, I think.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin sighed. “This is why you need me. You’re literally helpless.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur stared at him for a second before finally admitting, “I’ve always needed you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin watched him back, the sudden relief after so many years of worry palpable. “You’ll always have me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But promise me one thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No more notes. For either of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merlin looked startled but doubled over into a laugh. “Alright, sounds good. No more notes, My King. Never again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>“Never again,” Arthur repeated. Never that again, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>this? </span>
  </em>
  <span>This, always. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”<br/>― William Shakespeare</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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